


The Pen of Possibility (Among Other Things)

by multi_angxls



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, hint: the fountain pen hehehe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 16:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21461236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multi_angxls/pseuds/multi_angxls
Summary: Gilbert, on his way to propose to Winifred, finds a pen in his pocket that just so happens to belong to none other than Anne Shirley Cuthbert... ;)
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Shirbert - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 75





	The Pen of Possibility (Among Other Things)

**Author's Note:**

> I know this idea’s already been done probably but I am currently writing this at 1 am because I can’t get the idea out of my head and I’m so excited for the episode tomorrow night!

The train was late. 

Why the hell was the train so damn late? Gilbert checked the clock: the train had been three minutes late. This was possibly the most important moment of his life, the moment that would decide his entire future, and the train had the _audacity_ to show up three minutes late?! 

_Deep breaths,_ he reminded himself. He found himself getting a little too worked up over it. After all, proposing to Winifred was a big deal. Naturally he’d feel nervous, but it was more than that. As he climbed up the steps of the train, he began to worry at the thought creeping into his head: was he making a mistake? 

“Ticket please, sir,” the man at the top of the train steps said. His mind snapped out of his train of thought back onto the real train, and he searched around in his pocket for his ticket. His hand found something in his pocket, but it wasn’t a ticket. It was something solid and cylindrical, with a pointed tip. Something fairly small... 

Something like a pen. He pulled it out of his pocket and to his surprise, it was a pen. The pen. _Anne’s pen. _He must have forgotten to give it back to her before the exams. To anyone, it was likely nothing but a freak accident, a rare coincidence if you will. But as Gilbert stared at that pen longingly, he knew question foaming in his mind that he had chalked up to nerves had finally been answered. 

He was in love with Anne Shirley Cuthbert. 

The realization seemed quite anticlimactic in his opinion. He always thought it was supposed to be something big and groundbreaking, but as he though about Mary‘s words, marry for love and only for love, and about Anne, the passionate individual who’s personality was as effervescent and fiery as her red hair, it made sense. And he could see clear as day that he was making a huge mistake. 

“Sir please, your ticket.” 

“Uhmm... nevermind actually. I have something I need to do, something that’s waited much too long.” With that, he tipped his hat towards the man on the train and hopped off the steps, running through the train station like a mad man. 

At first, he wasn’t quite sure where he was running. He didn’t even know where Anne would be at this time of day. At last, he decided to go to the Cuthbert’s house first to see if she’d be there. 

•~~• 

when Gilbert arrived at the Cuthbert’s house, everything was quiet. It was unusual, considering Anne was always humming or talking to animals when she roamed about the farm, but today not even Jerry was around. He ran up to the door and knocked repeatedly. 

“Gilbert? What on earth are you doing here?” Marilla’s shock at his arrival worried him for some reason. 

“Mrs. Cuthbert, is Anne there? May I speak with her? It’s urgent.”

”I’m afraid you cannot. She’s not here. In fact, she just told me she was going to find you!” 

“What?!” 

“My thoughts exactly. You better hurry. She didn’t mention where you were off to but I’m assuming it wasn’t anywhere close.” 

“Yes of course.” He began to run off, but stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Would it be alright if I borrowed Belle?”

•~~•  
  


Anne was running probably faster than she’d ever ran before. She read in her books about how love made people do crazy things, but never how they made people perform great physical feats. Still, there was so little time before his train left that she couldn’t bear the thought of missing the train. Running up to the train station was rough. Her hopes ran low as she watched a train drive off, chugging away into the distance. Hopeless and heartbroken, she sat down on a bench. She thought of the first train she’d taken into Avonlea. The anxiety at the mere thought that the family who was about to take her in wouldn’t want her anymore, the fear of never being loved. Matthew and Marilla were her family now, but this love was different. This love was Gilbert, and when Gilbert Blythe came into her life all those years ago and helped her slay her dragons, her life changed. She looked around at all the people passing by, and thought of how in all of the people in the world, Gilbert was the one person who she could picture herself with, the only person she could ever— 

Was that Belle she saw? 

She blinked, waiting to see if she had been hallucinating. 

She hadn’t.

For in the distance clear as day, there stood Belle, her marvellous most loyal horse, galloping her way towards her, and accompanied by someone. Someone who she had never expected to see again. Gilbert Blythe. 

She stop up and ran towards them, out of breath as Gilbert tied Belle to a post, standing back up to meet her eyes straight on. His gaze seemed a million times more piercing and intense than ever. Not to mention more romantic. 

“Gilbert.” “Anne.” 

They both spoke at the same time, a habit they never seemed to break out of over the years. 

“I...” Gilbert started. He reached into his pocket for something and Anne’s heart skipped a beat. That small shock of a sped up heartbeat was enough to push her to say it: the three words she’d been scared to say to him ever since the night at the campfire. 

“I’m in love with you—” “I still had your pen—“ they spoke at the same time again.

“What?” She asked, standing there in utter embarrassment. Of course this was about a pen, he would never just leave his future for her, he just felt bad because of a pen. 

“No, you first,” he said, slowly and wide-eyed. 

“I’m- I’m in love with you.” 

”You’re... in love... with _me_?” 

“Yes.” Suddenly, there was a silent tension between them. That was Anne learned that silence is often really damn loud. Then, to her delight, something wonderful happened. A smile crept up on Gilbert’s face. Slowly but surely, he was smiling at her with the most handsomely adorable smirk. He stepped in closer to her and her heart started beating really fast. It used to scare her, but now it made her more certain than ever about her feelings. 

“I never went to Charlottetown. I never went... because I love you too.” 

“I... I never got my pen back,” she replied. He giggled and placed the pen gently back into her hand, letting his fingers linger a little to brush her hand softly. He moved his hands over to the small of her back and Anne, ever so abundantly imaginative, felt sorry for all the other romance stories. Because as he leaned in and kissed her softly and tenderly, she knew for certain that no fairytale could beat that. 

He pulled away slowly. “Are you— are you sure you are?” They both laughed, Anne giggling a little more loudly than Gilbert which he adored. “Yes yes! I’m certain! I love you, Gilbert Blythe.” She lifted her chin up a little to finish, “Always have, always will.” 

He chuckled and pulled her in for another kiss, the two of them ignoring whoever wanted to stare, whoever wanted to talk, anyone who felt anything other than joy towards them. Because in that moment, they were nothing but two people, passionate individuals, madly in love with eachother.   
  


“Come on,” Gilbert said with a smile, “Let’s go back home.” He intertwined his fingers with hers, and even took her hand as he helped her up onto the horse. They rode Belle back home together back to Avonlea. Back to their home. Back to their future. 

Anne looking in her pocket at the brown fountain pen that laid there, whispered so that only she could hear. 

“Thank you, my dear pen of possibility. You have given me the best possibility ever: the life I never thought I could have.” 

She smiled and held onto Gilbert the whole ride home.


End file.
